


A Truth Among Lies

by Meraad



Series: The Disaster that is Evelyn Trevelyan [8]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:40:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28515081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meraad/pseuds/Meraad
Summary: Warden Blackwall's past finally is revealed and Evelyn Trevelyan struggles to cope with the truth of it and her feelings for the man.
Relationships: Blackwall | Thom Rainier/Female Trevelyan, Blackwall/Female Inquisitor
Series: The Disaster that is Evelyn Trevelyan [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1244630
Comments: 5
Kudos: 8





	A Truth Among Lies

“Inquisitor.”

“My Lady?”

“Lady Trevelyan.”

“Evelyn.” 

Evelyn flinched and jerked her head around to stare at the man who had said her name. Repeatedly, apparently. “What is it?” she asked. She was on the ramparts, though she didn’t have any memory of how she got there. “The Templars? William?” she asked, hating that hopeful note in her voice. 

In the months with the Inquisition, leading them, being the Inquisitor, she’d found that these people were relentless. In their do-gooding and trying to save the world, and in not letting her wallow alone. Evelyn was good at it. A master at building walls around herself that kept even the kindest of people out. But these people kept poking at that wall, and in spite of herself, she found herself warming up to some of them.

And the Commander was one of them. He’d used his contacts within the Templars to help her track down one of her brothers, Martin and though he’d already been infected with the Red-Lyrium, he’d had enough presence of mind that he’d made Evelyn promise to find Will. And she knew that Cullen was still looking for William.

But he gave his head a slight shake. “Are you… alright?” he asked, a cautious tone to his voice. 

_No, no, she wasn’t alright._ Bile burned her throat and she swallowed hard, feeling the sweat break out on her forehead, and a trickle run down her spine. Evelyn had nothing left to purge and felt all the more lightheaded for it. “What is it?” she asked him again because she could tell something was wrong, and it wasn’t just with her.

“Have you…” he hesitated, reached up to rub the back of his neck before dropping his hands back down to his sides. “Have you spoken with the Warden today?”

Her gorge rose, and it took a conscious effort not to press her hand to her stomach. “No,” she said stiffly. It was no secret that they shared a bed. Or really any solid surface. They’d been caught in many a countless compromising positions by more than a handful of scouts and soldiers. Though for the last few days, Evelyn had worked hard to build up that wall around herself again, after realizing that her monthly courses were well over a week late.

Her cycle had never been particularly consistent, but she took the daily tonic that was meant to prevent her from getting with child, so Evelyn paid little mind to the bleeding coming late, and thought it more a reprieve from the pain and cramping that left her utterly exhausted. Only she’d been a fool. With her gear strapped to her back as they set toward a new camp, Evelyn and her companions had stumbled into a bandit’s hideout, and in the ensuing battle, she’d lost her pack, and upon retrieving it, the little vials of the tonic had all been shattered. 

Yet, despite that, Evelyn had still slipped off in the dead of night with Blackwall every single night. It was nearly two weeks before she’d been able to restock, but she’d told herself everything would be fine. 

When they were on the last stretch in their return to Skyhold, Evelyn had woken up before dawn and been violently ill. And now, days later, it hadn’t gone away.

“Why?” Evelyn asked, staring up at Cullen. She needed to know what happened and knew that whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

Cullen held out a folded piece of parchment and Evelyn just stared at it, the twisting in her gut having nothing to do with the nausea now. “It would appear the Warden left Skyhold this morning.” 

Her mind raced as she stared at the paper that the Commander still held out to her. Blackwall left? Why would he leave? She’d pushed at him for months, had these last few days been the final straw? No, she didn’t believe that. He still thought he could save her from herself. 

_Had he figured it out?_

Snatching the papers quickly to hide her trembling hands, Evelyn turned her back and unfolded the parchment. A note, written in an unfamiliar hand. Mornay. Callier. A family murdered. Thom Rainier. 

The paper beneath, she recognized the writing. 

_Ev,_

_I have run from my past long enough. Being around you, watching you, has made me wish I were a better man. This is the least I can do._

_I’m sorry._

_Don’t punish yourself for my crimes._

_Blackwall_

A drop of water hit the page and Evelyn blinked, realizing she was crying. His crimes? Whirling back to face Cullen she saw the look of concern on his face. “We’ve already sent scouts ahead to try and reach him in Val Royeax. Your horse is being readied.” 

By the time they reached Val Royeax, the man she’d known as Blackwall was already in a prison cell after admitting to his crimes. Thom Rainier.

Evelyn read the report. Read it again. Crumpled the pages in a rage and then smoothed them out and read it once more. A captain in the Orlesian army. Thom Rainier was ordered by Duke Gaspard to kill Lord Vincent Callier. Nothing surprising, more of the game that the nobles played with innocent lives. Easily dismissed in the grand scheme of things.

But there had been children in the carriage. 

_Children_.

He could have stopped it. 

Evelyn lunged for the chamber pot and gagged but all she spat out was bile. Arms curling around her middle, she doubled over and screamed out her grief. 

She ignored every knock at her door for the rest of the night. She felt betrayed. Blackwall, no, no, his name was Thom. Thom Rainier. He’d held her in his arms while she’d wept about Isaak. Anger filled her at the thought. Undiluted rage. Evelyn would never forgive him for this. He wanted to die? She’d let him.

Storming out of her quarters she pounded on the door where she knew she’d find Cullen. After a few moments, the door opened and a bleary-eyed, half-dressed Cullen stood before her. Behind him, she caught sight of the opulent bed and the two men that lay among the heap of pillows and blankets. 

“I want him taken back to Skyhold,” Evelyn said, barely controlling her anger. Cullen had suggested it the day before, before slipping off into the shadows with The Iron Bull and Dorian. “The Inquisition has sway, I don’t care what it takes. His punishment is mine.” 

“Understood,” Cullen said, and Evelyn ignored the look that Bull gave her before turning on her heel and going back to her quarters.

“Give me the key,” Evelyn said, glaring at the guard that stood before the entrance to the cells below. 

“Inquisitor?” his voice was unsure, but she held out her hand and continued to glare at him until with trembling fingers he played the ring in her hand.

“Now leave,” she snarled, walking past him and down the stairs. It was damp, smelled of hay and mold and bodily waste, but she found him, sitting on the floor of a dimly lit cell.

“Evelyn,” Thom Rainier pushed to his feet, looking at her with worried eyes as she shoved the key into the lock.

She’d had days to stew on her rage, since leaving Val Royeax. And now, now, - a twinging pain low in her back and she grit her teeth. A roiling pot about to boil over. The blood had come that morning, the all too familiar pains of her cycle along with it and Evelyn had wept, without knowing if it was in sorrow or relief. 

Wrenching open the door, Rainier took a half step back, and Evelyn threw herself at him with a primal scream. “I hate you! How dare you!” he stumbled, crashing onto his back with a grunt. “Murder, you’re a murder,” she snarled, pounding her fists against his chest. 

“Ev,” he breathed, brows drawing together. “I never meant-”

“Don’t call me that,” her voice was a low hiss. Reaching back, she drew her dagger from its sheath and pressed it against his throat.

"Children. There were children in that carriage." Her face twisted with rage. “Give me one good reason not to slit your throat right now.”

His throat bobbed against the blade, a thin line of blood appearing, but she didn’t withdraw. “You know as well as I do, there isn’t one,” he murmured, eyes falling shut and arching his head back slightly, she watched with a horrifying fascination as a trickle of blood ran down the side of his neck. “You should have left me in that cell in Orlais.” A beat of silence. “Unless your plan is to torture me?” Rainier opened his eyes once more, pale grey meeting dark brown and she saw the acceptance there and in the way his arms lay stretched out, he’d made no move to push her off, to defend himself.

“I will never forgive you,” her face crumpled, tears overflow and a sob breaking free as she lifted the blade over her head and drove it down with a scream. It struck home and she dropped her head to his shoulder, pressed it there as she sobbed, her heart breaking just as it had a decade earlier after losing Isaak and Alexander. Her finger still gripping the hilt of her dagger she drew in a ragged breath. “I hate you. I hate you.”

Long minutes passed, the man beneath her was still, then slowly, so slowly, he drew his arms around her, one hand going to the back of her head, the other around her waist. Evelyn wasn’t sure how long she lay there, she felt raw, and her throat hurt. But finally, empty of tears she shoved away from Rainier, her blade still embedded in the earth inches from his head, Evelyn got to her feet and stormed out of the prison.

Cullen was there at the top of the steps when she came out. “My lady-” but she ignored him, and kept walking. He hesitated, certain that he’d find the bloody remains of the former Warden when he went down there. When the guard had tracked him down, Cullen had run the whole way here, unsure if he should try to stop the slaughter that he thought was coming. But he’d been too late, whatever happened.

Drawing in a breath he made his way down. Rainier sat in the middle of his cell, the door wide open, a dagger in his hand. “Rainier,” Cullen said, pulling the forgotten key from the lock. 

“Commander,” the other man said, then held up the dagger to him, blade pinched between his fingers. “The Inquisitor forgot this.” After a beat, Cullen reached out and took it, then stepped back out of the cell. Unsure what Evelyn’s decision was to do with him, Cullen gripped the door, wavering between allowing him out, or slamming it shut once more. Cullen knew how he felt about the actions of the man, but the Inquisitor cared for him.

Finally deciding, Cullen took a step back, leaving the cell open, and headed for the main door out of the prison. Her decision had been made. Despite the streak of blood on Rainier’s neck, she’d let him live, and hadn’t relocked the cell. “I’d lay low if I were you,” he called over his shoulder.


End file.
